


Sick Day

by emmawicked



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff fest, Sick Character, gabriel is my life and he's ruining it, seriously just a shitload of fluff and cuteness, sick reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5330915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmawicked/pseuds/emmawicked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel pops into the bunker when the Reader is alone sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Day

“Guys, I'll be fine,” you reassured the brothers. “It's just a stomach bug, I'll be fine on my own for a few days.” Sam's mouth fell into an adorable pout, looking at you earnestly with his big, wide hazel eyes. 

“Are you sure?” Sam questioned for what seemed like the millionth time, “Because I can totally stay here if you need someone here, it’s really no problem.” You waved him off. 

“I'll be fine,” you reassured. Dean leaned against the doorjamb, waiting for his brother.

“Listen to the woman, Sam,” Dean said, “God knows you don’t usually.” Sam flushed and his jaw tightened angrily as he shot a glare towards his brother. 

“Dean.” Sam’s voice held a note of warning and Dean just rolled his eyes. You attempted (and failed) to bite back a smile at their antics.

“Just go do the case,” you ordered. Sam sighed reluctantly. After several more minutes of persuasion and wheedling and you and Dean working together to get Sam to agree to leave you in the bunker.

You sighed once the bunker went quiet. You rarely had the bunker all to yourself, and you regretted that you weren’t able to properly enjoy it by dancing around wildly and singing out of tune without Sam and Dean yelling at you to stop. Oh well. Blowing your nose, you added to the growing mountain of tissues at your side and hit play on your laptop. 

“Hello sugar.” You jumped at the voice to your side, startled. It was Gabriel. 

“Just me,” he said smirking, holding his hands in a defensive posture. You rolled your eyes, relaxing and shoving your gun back on the nightstand.

“What are you doing here, Gabriel?” You asked. Your voice sounded funny to you since your nose was all clogged up. 

“Would you believe that I wanted to see you?” Gabriel asked, holding out a daisy. You hummed in response as you took the flower.

“Maybe,” you answered. You held the flower up to your nose to smell and promptly sneezed. Gabriel’s face dropped as he finally looked at your room.

“Are you okay?” He asked worriedly, his eyebrows drawing together. You smiled wanly at him.

“I’m just a little sick,” you replied. Gabriel gazed around your room, observing the mess that had collected over three days of being room-bound.

“It looks like more than a little,” Gabriel said, looking pointedly at the vomit splatters on the wall that you weren’t quite able to get off despite all of your scrubbing. You flushed dark pink.

“Maybe a little,” you admitted, “But you really don’t want to be around me, I could get you sick and I’m disgusting.” Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“Hellooooo?” Gabriel scoffed, drawing out the word, “Archangel? I can’t get sick.” You flushed even pinker at his words. You actually forgot what he was for a second. Or maybe that was just the fever talking… “And you could never be disgusting to me.” He shifted as he spoke. A grin grew on your face.

“Aww, Gabe,” you teased, “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“Where are the Winchester bros?” Gabriel asked, just noticing how quiet the bunker was outside of the room.

“They’re gone on a case.” Gabriel’s expression suddenly darkened, like a storm cloud on the horizon. 

“They’re gone and left you to take care of yourself while you’re sick?” Gabriel demanded. You looked at him apprehensively.

“It’s fine,” you reassured, “They’re busy and I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” Gabriel unruffled slightly, but only just. 

“But you shouldn’t have to, that’s my point,” Gabriel grumbled petulantly. A slight smile crossed your face at his words. 

“I guess you’ll just have to be my caretaker,” you teased. Gabriel’s face brightened at your words. 

“I guess I will,” he said with a mischievous grin. He snapped his fingers and you weren’t in your room anymore. Looking around in wonder at the expansive room, you jumped when a hand landed on your shoulder. 

“Where are we?” You asked in awe. Gabriel smiled.

“Some palace in France,” he said casually. You looked at him incredulously. Waggling his eyebrows, Gabriel grinned. “One of the many perks of having my job, sugar.” You grinned at the pet name and wandered over to a door on the left. Opening up, it revealed an enormous bathroom with a clawfoot tub that was the size of a small swimming pool. Almost immediately, you were filled with the desire to take a bath. When was the last time you had taken one? In most of the motels you and the Winchesters had stayed at there was only a crappy shower and there was no way you were going to take a bath in the bathtubs that they had. You had just gotten used to the routine. 

You must have let out a noise, because Gabriel chuckled from behind you. 

“If you want to take a shower, go ahead,” he said in a amusement, leaning against the wall. You were sorely tempted, but also terrified of the possibility of falling asleep and drowning, or any event where you might need to throw up again. 

“I… I don’t know if I can,” you said sorrowfully, your eyes still lingering on the tub. “I’m not feeling really well.” You sniffled for extra emphasis, making sure to look extra pathetic. 

“I guess I’ll have to go in with you,” Gabriel said in a matter of fact tone. Your jaw dropped open and hit the floor. 

“You’re just trying to get in my pants,” you accused, pointing a finger at him and poking him in the chest. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“You’ve figured out my master plan,” Gabriel said dryly. When you still looked unconvinced, Gabriel continued with a sigh. “There are bubbles and bath salts, so I won’t be able to see anything,” he expanded. You looked at him suspiciously.

“Promise?” You ventured. Gabriel’s face lit up with a smile.

“Promise.” Slowly, you unwrapped yourself from the doorjamb and entered the bathroom. Gabriel closed the door, only leaving it open a crack, to give you some semblance of privacy. Turning your back to the door, you started the bath, running your fingers under the stream of water to see if it was warm enough. Of course it was, it was the perfect temperature almost immediately and you marbled at it. Trailing your hand over the bottles, you picked a light lavender one and poured it into the bath. 

Less than a minute later, bubbles were foaming out of the tub. You smiled in satisfaction and swished your hand in the water to make sure it was warm. Stripping off your clothes that you’d been wearing for the past two days, you lowered yourself into the bath with a groan. It felt so good. 

“Are you ready?” Gabriel asked from outside. 

“Yes,” you called, sinking deeper in the water and tilting your head to rest on the edge of the porcelain tub. You could hear the door open and Gabriel shuffle in, but he stopped suddenly. Cracking an eye open, you saw him standing at the edge of the tub with a blank expression on his face. 

“What?” You asked, your eyebrows drawing together. Was there something on your face? You self-consciously reached up, but didn’t find anything there. 

“Nothing.” The calm on his face broke as he smiled, flashing his teeth at you. In a flash, he appeared behind you and you tensed as his hands landed on your shoulders. 

You wrapped your arms around your chest as Gabriel poured water over your hair. The foamy bubbles protected your modesty. Lathering up his hands with shampoo, Gabriel started washing your hair for you. Sinking back with a stifled moan on your lips, you felt boneless as Gabriel played with your hair. 

“You should be careful, a girl could get used to this,” you murmured, not even bothering to open your eyes. You could hear Gabriel smile and hum in amusement above you. 

It seemed too soon when it all ended, and Gabriel left the bathroom to let you change. With a regretful feeling, you drained the bath and dried yourself off with the ridiculously soft towels on the counter. You searched the floor for your clothes, but they were gone, replaced by a silk robe hanging from a hook on the wall. Smiling to yourself, you put it on, feeling better than you had in a week. 

You opened the door to reveal Gabriel standing near a couch holding a bag of sour gummy worms. He grinned at you as you entered. 

“Want some?” He offered, holding out the bag. With a slightly nauseated look on your face, you shook your head.

“No thanks,” you said, swallowing, “I’m afraid to eat anything.” Gabriel’s face scrunched up in confusion and tilted his head. Briefly, you wondered whether all angels do that, or just the two you’ve met. 

“What have you had the last week?” You shifted, gripping the robe tighter around yourself.

“Uh… Mainly saltines and gatorade.” The sugar-loving angel looked so horrified that he dropped his gummy worms. 

“That sounds awful, I’m so glad angels can’t get sick.” Gabriel shuddered as he spoke. You started to laugh, but cut it short in fear that the action would cause more vomiting. And you’ve done enough of that this week to last for the rest of your lifetime. 

“The gatorade isn’t so bad, I like it- it’s the saltines. Nobody actually likes saltines, it’s just something people eat when they’re sick,” you complained. A smile tugged at Gabriel’s lips and he laughed. 

“I can at least get you gatorade,” he said. In less than a second, he was gone- only to reappear a moment later with three bottles in hand. 

“Thank you,” you said gratefully as you took the first one and cracked it open. Taking a small sip, you sighed in contentment as it soothed your throat. 

Gabriel settled on the couch and gestured towards you. Gratefully, you settled down on the couch next to him and swept your wet hair over your shoulder as you leaned on him. 

“Don’t tell Castiel,” You murmured as Gabriel put your favorite movie on the large television screen, “But you’re my favorite angel.” Gabriel laughed. 

“The others probably already know this, but you’re my favorite human.” Gabriel winked at you and you laughed. Settling down on him, he hit play. 

 

—*—  
(The next morning)

When you woke up on the couch that morning, you shockingly felt back to normal. It was like your illness had flown over night. Yawning, you stretched and bumped into Gabriel by accident.

“Good morning,” You said, still sleepy. he grinned at you.

“Mornin’,” he greeted cheerfully, “Breakfast?” He held out a tray filled with waffles. Your brow wrinkled for a moment before cracking into a smile. 

“Sure!” You were starving. After stuffing your face for a good seven minutes, you looked back up at Gabriel.

“Did you heal me last night?” You asked curiously, already suspecting the answer. Gabriel shifted.

“…Mayyybe,” Gabriel said in an attempt to be mysterious, waggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes at him and laughed. 

“Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?” You asked, slightly annoyed. He wouldn’t have had to go through all that trouble for you in the first place if he’d just healed you. Gabriel shrugged.

“I wanted to take care of you,” he said innocently with a twinkle in his eye. A flush rose to your cheeks. Hesitating for a moment, you hugged him tightly.

“Thank you,” you said, the sound slightly muffled by his chest. You could feel arms wrap around you in return.

“Any time, sugar.”


End file.
